Touching and Touched
by The Second Coming
Summary: Spock decides that his friendship with Jim & Bones has reached an acceptable point to begin tactile contact.
1. Touching and Touched

**Title**: Touching and Touched

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Star Trek and this is entirely for fun and not for profit.

**Notes**: Written for the following prompt at **st_xi_kink_meme** on LJ:

_Pretend this is an actual theory. I'm generalizing for the prompt._

_Humans tend to have certain patterns in touching. We hug, we kiss, we hold hands. Romantic partners even have certain patterns, things that are considered "normal." (I feel like I'm not explaining this well). Anything outside the "normal" bounds is a kink, it seems. Then, there are the touch patterns we use with animals. We pet dogs, cats, etc, constantly. We seek them out to bestow this affection._

_What if Vulcans, culturally, have a different set of touch patterns? They may not show emotions, but what if they show support, comfort, etc, through touch? This only happens with family or very, very close friends, and only in private._

_So, both Jim and Bones are becoming very good friends with Spock, when one day he becomes much more touchy feely. Maybe Spocks watching a vid with them, and he absently starts to stroke Jim's hair, or Bones back (or arms or chest or stomach...). Maybe he maneuvers in to one of the other's space during a conversation in their quarters, gently handling them until they are in the position he wants, so he can pet and talk at the same time._

_And Jim and Bones? They're pretty much "WTF?!" Spock then makes a short explanation, as he knew it would be difficult for them to get used to, but he asserts that it is perfectly logical and they are good friends so... Jim and Bones just have to deal. So there._

_And Jim and Bones do. (Jim's kind of freaked out by the fact he's not turned on by this. Shouldn't he be? But it's kind of hard to think when Spock starts scratching that spot right behind his ear...) Bonus if Jim actually starts to subtly go to Spock for it, instead of Spock going to him. Bones holds out longer. I mean, it's Bones._

_TL;DR: Spock asserts his Vulcan culture in his friendship with Bones and Jim. It involves touching. Boens and Jim freak, then start to enjoy it. Jim doesn't mind being a friend/lap dog at all._

* * *

Jim Kirk was, by nature, a very tactile person. He spent a good portion of his time on the bridge leaning over close to officer's consoles, and often demonstrated his approval/friendship/desire to go and get food through means of touch. When exploring foreign planets, Jim's first instinct was always to grab hold (literally) of the unexpected, resulting in several situations that Doctor McCoy had deemed "entirely avoidable if it weren't for your pig-headed stupidity".

Leonard McCoy was not a very tactile person. When he touched, it was in the line of duty. Excepting, of course, the occasional case involving a pretty woman, and Jim's infernal determination to grope him into submission.

Spock made a point of avoiding touching. A fact which was entirely understandable, given his condition as a touch-telepath made even casual touching an occasionally awkward experience. Thus, Jim was understandably surprised when Spock reached out and _petted_his arm twice while the two of them were in the turbolift, about to beam down into a highly volatile situation involving a trade agreement and Klingons. He'd been about to say something to Spock when the lift doors whooshed open, and they started down the corridor towards the transporter room, but having a conversation about petting wasn't really the best thing to be doing before beaming don into a highly volatile situation involving a trade agreement and Klingons. Plus, he wasn't sure exactly what to say.

Unfortunately, Jim had never got around to telling Bones all about the strange turbolift petting, and so, when Bones strolled out of his office and into the sickbay to check on the captain (who was lying unconscious following a highly volatile encounter with the Klingons involving a trade agreement), he underwent the decidedly uncomfortable feeling of his brain exploding inside his skull.

Spock was standing beside the captain's bed, rhythmically running a hand through the captain's hair. He stilled as soon as he caught sight of Dr. McCoy, and blinked. "Good evening, Doctor," Spock said.

Bones' brain was still exploding, and was thus incapable of forming a coherent response.

"I will take my leave," Spock said calmly, as if he hadn't just been stroking the captain of the ship. "My shift will begin shortly." And with that, he strolled out of the sickbay.

"What the _fuck_?!" Bones said aloud to Jim's unconscious form.

--

It was probably not the best away mission Bones had ever participated in. They had, within only forty minutes of arriving on the surface of this cosmic-decency-forsaken planet, lost three security guards (he was starting to think that wearing a red uniform was something of an ominous sign), been captured, beaten, rescued by the captain, separated from the captain and trapped in a cave-in. And best of all, he was currently stuck in a small, enclosed space with no one for company but Spock. In some ways, the rocks might've been better company, he mused, as Spock sat, staring pensively at the large pile of rocks they'd just given up attempting to move.

"Don't worry, Spock," Bones said, feeling obliged to say something before he went insane from the awkward silence, "Jim'll find us, I'm sure."

"The statistical likelyhood of that occurring is only 16.42%," said Spock. "Assuming, of course, that the captain has managed to free himself from his captors and return to the Enterprise."

"And if he hasn't?" Bones asked, dreading the answer.

"The likelyhood of our rescue is approximately 4.3%," Spock replied. "But, do not worry — the action is entirely unproductive."

"I'll worry if I damn well please," snapped Bones, rolling over onto his side, his back to the Vulcan.

"I believe you will find the activity unfulfilling," said Spock. "You may rest. I will keep watch in case there is further evidence of structural collapse."

"That's nice," Bones said snarkily, wondering what he'd done to deserve being stuck in a cave-in with a Vulcan.

He was awoken by a hand shaking his shoulder nearly three hours later. "Whazzat?" he said, somewhat incoherently.

"Doctor," said Spock, hovering over him. "I have found a tunnel."

"Good for you," Bones grumbled, sitting up and stretching sore muscles.

"The passageway is very narrow. I intend to investigate. It would be best if you remained here, in case the passage leads nowhere or I become trapped."

Bones blinked, and then scowled. "Now wait just a darn minute, if you think for one second that I am allowing you to go in there alone…!"

"I do not recall giving you a choice, Doctor," Spock said, making his way to the far side of the cave and peering into an extremely small opening.

"Spock, it's dangerous — we should stick together —"

"May I remind you, Doctor," Spock began, his words short and toneless in a way that suggested an almost human impatience. "That we have no food, nor water, and will require both should we wish to survive. Out of the two of us, I am the best adapted to surviving an attempt to investigate this tunnel. I am stronger, and I am capable of breathing air with a lower oxygen content than you and still function. I am the logical choice."

"Damn your logic!" Bones shouted in frustration, because he knew Spock was entirely correct.

"Indeed," Spock said, sounding almost amused. "You will wish to monitor the ceiling for structural collapse," he said, and then he reached out and dug his fingers into Bones' hair, splaying his hand out over the top of Bones' head and contracting his fingers three times in a sort of scratch-like motion.

"What the —?" Bones said, stepping back and shaking his head. "What the devil do you think you're doing?"

Spock's hand hovered in mid-air for a moment before falling to his side. "Farewell, Doctor. If all goes well, I should return shortly." And with that, he slipped through the crack and was gone.

"Just when I think things couldn't get any weirder…" Bones said to himself.

--

They had managed to go over three weeks without getting captured, which was probably a record as far as the crew of the Enterprise was concerned. Unfortunately, however, all good things must come to an end, and so, James Kirk, Leonard McCoy and Spock found themselves once again at the hands of a group of natives on a backwater planet somewhere in the vicinity of the Romulan Neutral Zone.

"I really hate prisons," Jim said, staring at the bland grey walls. "Everywhere you go they always look the same."

Bones snorted, and Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright," Jim said, tugging on the bars of their cell once more. "We need to figure out a way out of this."

"A logical conclusion, Captain." Something in the way Spock said it sounded like he was being awfully sarcastic for a Vulcan.

"I don't know how you do it," Bones said, sitting down on the floor of the cell. "We go to the most peaceful-looking, green planets in the galaxy, and we wind up in jail. Every single damn time."

"It's hardly my fault!" Jim said.

"You do seem to be a consistent factor in our imprisonment, Captain," Spock said, taking a seat next to Bones on the floor, who eyed him wearily.

Jim spluttered furiously. "So do you!" He rubbed a hand over his eyes, looking exhausted. "Okay. Why don't we get some sleep for now, and we'll work on an escape plan in the morning."

"Sleep, pah!" Bones said. "As if I could get anything close to a decent night's sleep on a hard stone floor."

"Well, short of suggesting that you sleep on Spock, I don't know know what you expect me to do about it," Jim said, sitting down next to his first officer, who blinked and looked as alarmed as someone without much in the way of expression could.

Bones just muttered something about Jim being a dick and tried to go to sleep.

"You too, Mr. Spock. You need sleep as much as the rest of us," Jim said, as he curled up as best he could and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

Spock simply nodded and closed his eyes.

--

When Jim awoke, someone was alternating between scratching behind his ear, and brushing his hair back. He felt inexplicably warm, and comfortable for having spent the night on a cold, stone floor.

"What the _hell_, Spock?!" Bones shouted, and the hand in Jim's hair stilled instantly.

Jim blinked and sat up, looking around him in dazed confusion, and saw Bones standing up and staring down at Spock with a slightly crazed expression, and his first officer staring impassively back up at Bones, his hands resting lightly on the floor at his sides.

"Err… Bones?" Jim asked.

"He was… _Petting_ me, Jim," Bones said, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

Jim blinked. "You _too_," he blurted without thinking.

Bones stared at him, long and hard.

"Err… right," Jim said. "I think, uh, that we deserve an explanation, Spock."

Spock nodded. "It is customary for people of your planet to express affection through touch, is it not?"

"_Affection_?" Bones said, in a slightly strangled voice.

"Uh… yeah, I suppose," Jim said, feeling like this conversation was far too surreal to be actually happening. The fact that they were locked in a jail cell on Alpha Antares II didn't really help add to the reality of the situation any.

Spock did a strange sort of half-shrug, as if to indicate that he had sufficiently explained himself, and that if the human dunderheads didn't comprehend, than that was entirely their problem.

"Uh… Spock," Jim said slowly. "You're going to have to be a little clearer than that. You're saying that the … _petting_ thing is your way of showing… affection?"

Spock nodded. "It is the Vulcan way."

"You," said Bones slowly, "have _affection_ for me?"

"I have found your work to be capable, and your companionship no less so," said Spock.

"_Capable_?" exclaimed Bones. "He finds my companionship _capable_."

"I'm sorry, Spock," said Jim. "We weren't aware. Humans don't generally, uh, pet one another."

Bones let out a loud snort.

"I trust that you have been sufficiently educated, Captain," said Spock. "However, my primary concern is currently devising an escape plan, as I have no wish to remain in this cell."

--

The movie had been his idea, as had the company. Besides, it was entirely ridiculous that Spock had never seen _Forbidden Planet_. It was a cult classic!

And so what if he'd deliberately arranged things so that Spock wound up sitting on the couch with Bones, and he was forced to politely sit on a cushion on the floor, with his head at the perfect height for Spock's long, nimble fingers to work their magic. Sure, it was a little weird that he had a secret (entirely _non-sexual_ - as bizarre as it was) thing for being petted by Vulcans, well, _this_ Vulcan anyway. They were out here to learn about new life and new civilisations - well he was learning, in his favourite way: as tactile as possible.

And so what if Spock's touch made him feel loved; truly, deeply loved in a way he hadn't felt since he was a very young child. It's not like he'd ever tell anyone — as far as anyone else was concerned, he was just honouring Spock's customs.

Plus, he was desperately looking forward to practising some Vulcan affection on Bones when he least expected it.


	2. Touching in the Line of Duty

**Notes: **Everyone has to write obligatory stuck-on-the-surface-during-an-away-mission-h/c... This is mine.

* * *

"Well," said Bones as they stood shivering inside the mouth of the cave, drenched from the pouring rain. "That went well."

"If you are applying sarcasm to our situation, Doctor," Spock replied flatly, "then I ask you to kindly desist — it is most unhelpful."

"And I suppose you standing there and sniping at me is?" Bones muttered to himself, running his arms up and down his sleeves in an effort to keep warm. "This mission has been just one bloody disaster after another."

"Indeed," Spock agreed, scanning the perimeter of the cave with his tricorder. "This structure appears to be solid. We should be safe here for the night."  
"Wonderful," Bones said drily. "Provided, of course, the natives don't find us."

"The rain will have likely washed away any traces of our passage. If we are fortunate, they will not find us before we are able to re-establish communications with the Enterprise and beam back up to the ship. Until then, I suggest we keep watch."

"Best idea I've heard all day," Bones said, stretching his arms up over his head. "I'll take first watch. You get some rest, Mr. Spock. But before you do, I'd like to have another look at that leg of yours."

"I assure you, it is healing adequately. Due, no doubt, to your competent skills as a healer."

"Now, now, Mr. Spock," Bones said, opening his medical tricorder. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"You misunderstand," Spock said, subtly shifting his body away from the medical scanner. For someone remote and detached, he seemed to have a strange dislike of medical procedures. "I did not mean to flatter."

Bones blinked. "Only you, Mr. Spock, can make something that is usually a compliment sound like an insult."

"And only you, Doctor, can make a remark that is clearly intended to be an insult seem like a compliment," Spock replied. "It is a strange turn of events that the natives responded the way they did to your presence."

"Now hold on just a damn minute," Bones said, lowering his scanner. "That was not my fault. I had no idea that I looked exactly like the evil deity from their local pantheon."

"No," Spock replied. "I am merely remarking that it is a strange turn of events. You have, after all, remarked on several occasions that my appearance looks similar to your 'Devil'. I believe the proper phrase for this situation is: 'what goes around, comes around'."

"Well you do look damn demonic with those ears and those eyebrows, Spock," Bones replied. "And it's hardly my fault that the people on this planet have no appreciation for beauty."

"On the contrary, Doctor, I found their architectural style and design motifs to be most harmonious."

"Spock?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

Bones gave Spock a final poke with his medical scanner in the leg once just for good measure. "Shut up."

For a brief moment, Bones could have sworn that he saw the smallest flicker of pain on Spock's face, and he sighed. "Your leg still needs work, but I haven't got the proper tools to do anything about it now. I want you to stay off it as much as possible while we're here, though. And get some rest."

"Yes, Doctor."

—

Bones wasn't an expert in Vulcan physiology by any means, but he knew a fever when he saw one, and Spock definitely had one.

"Damn," he said aloud, over the raging wind of the unabating storm. Spock shivered.

"_Damn_," he said again.

There was really only one thing for it. He had nothing in the way of medical equipment, short of a tricorder and a scanner, and he'd already given Spock an antibacterial treatment on the wound. He scanned it again, both visually and technologically, and was relieved to see that it hadn't begun to fester. That much was good — it just meant that Spock had picked up some kind of illness while on the surface. It appeared to be a respiratory infection of some kind, however none of the treatments he had with him had worked.

Spock was still shivering.

So, really, the only thing left to do was to keep him warm, and wait for the fever to break, or the Enterprise to find them — whichever came first. It also meant cuddling up to Spock.

"You had better stay unconscious you pointy-eared bastard, or I will make your next routine check-up a living hell," he muttered aloud as he lay down beside the shivering Vulcan and wrapped his arms around his thin frame, drawing him close to his side to transfer as much body head as possible. Spock shivered again, shaking violently against Bones' side.

"You just _had_ to go and get sick, didn't you?" Bones muttered. "You're hopeless, you know that? I've met dogs who take better care of themselves than you do."  
He tried very hard not to think about the fact that Spock had been injured while protecting _him_, and then fallen ill while running from a group of rabid natives who were chasing _him_. He found it hard to dwell on the evidence of Spock's friendship and loyalty to him, finding it far too irreconcilable with the starch, toneless vision he had of Spock. And he tried very, very hard not to think about the touching. Ever.

Yet, somewhat of their own accord, his arms drew the Vulcan closer as Spock shivered violently, his body wracked with fever. Bones grit his teeth, and gently stroked Spock's hair, splaying out his fingers and then drawing them in, like scratching the belly of a cat — the same way Spock had the last time they'd been stuck in a cave together.

It was entirely inexplicable, and medically unsound, but it worked — Spock stilled, and the chills stopped. And slowly, as Bones, exhausted, dropped off to sleep, the rain stopped as well.

—

"So," Jim said, grinning widely in a way that made Bones feel distinctly uncomfortable. "Have a good time on Telos III?"

Bones eyed him wearily as he sat down at his desk. "No."

Jim's grin, if possible, grew even wider. "That's not what I heard."

Bones' eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What _did_ you hear?"

"Oh, that the natives didn't like you very much," Jim said.

"And that gave you the impression that I had a good time?" Bones grumbled in reply, arching an eyebrow.

"There's no need to lie to me, Bones," Jim replied. "I know you're happiest when you've got a reason to grouch at people." He sat down across from Bones and put his feet up on the desk. "I think calling you the devil was a little harsh, however."

Bones snorted, and gestured for Jim to take his feet of the desk. Jim ignored him. "But that's not all I heard — rumour has it that you took the opportunity to get to know Spock a little bit better on this mission…"

Bones snarled, silently coming up with ways to "accidentally" murder Mr. Scott. He'd know this would never keep quiet, based on the look of glee on the Scotsman's face when he'd beamed Spock and him up, still wrapped around each other.

"Sleeping like babies, I heard. All cuddled up," Jim said, gleefully.

"I am going to _murder_ your engineer, and then I am going to kill you and stuff you both out an airlock," Bones said.

"That's mutiny."

"I don't care. My career is over anyway."

"Don't be so melodramatic. Besides, I heard Sulu and Chekov are getting you a very nice wedding gift."

Bones let out a noise that sounded eerily like a howl of rage.

"Seriously, though, Bones," Jim said, sounding rather like he was suppressing an urge to laugh. "I'm glad the two of you are putting aside your differences so well."

"Oh, shut up and get out," Bones said. "Let me die in peace."

Jim flashed a grin. "I'll leave you to it, then," he said. "Oh, and Bones…"

"Mmm?"

Jim reached out, still grinning maniacally, and gave a quick scratch to the top of Bones' head.

"Oh, get off!" Bones shouted. "I don't put up with that from _him _and I certainly won't from you. I am_ not_ a dog!"

"Whatever you say, Bones," Jim shouted behind him as he strolled happily out of sickbay.


End file.
